by Pirateaba
“It’s—it’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it? It sounds like hypocrisy, to me. Your world claims to own no slaves, but you enslave your criminals. Well, in Chandrar we do the same. Trey, you may have a different name for slaves in your world, and perhaps you do different things with them. But they are still slaves.”
Flos rose, staring down at Trey with cold eyes. Merciless eyes. The same eyes of a King who would slaughter an army that came against him. Why hadn’t Trey seen it until now? He hadn’t wanted to believe it.
“Slavery allows criminals, enemies of my Kingdom, to be used, Trey. They are a commodity. Locking someone away for twenty years is crueler to my mind, and far more pointless. A slave cannot be mistreated under a just ruler, and they may be freed if—”
“They’re still slaves! Who cares if they’re pampered? They don’t have free will! How could you sell all those people? I thought you were a better King than that!”
That had struck home. Flos’ eyes narrowed.
“Some will be ransomed. The Traders of Roshal are an independent third party. They may ransom those with wealth, and manage those who are not able to buy their freedom. My kingdom needs food and coin for the winter, Trey.”
“I don’t care. You think its okay? I think it’s completely wrong. No—I know it is.”
Flos exhaled hard. He threw out his hands, more exasperated than Trey had ever seen him.
“What would you have me do? My dungeons cannot hold more than a fraction of their number, and feeding them would beggar my kingdom further. Would you have me execute them all? I do not have the stomach for it, and I am the King of Destruction.”
“I’m not telling you to kill them all! You could ransom some of them, and the rest…let them all go if you have to. But don’t treat them like—like—”
In the end Trey had run out of words. He couldn’t explain why slavery was wrong to Flos. He told the King of Destruction the sky was blue, and Flos said it was green. The King had silenced Trey after a while with a wave of one hand.
“You may not like it Trey, but I expect you to live with my decision. It is necessary. Your sister has made her peace with it. So must you. I am your King. And this is my kingdom. So long as you are my subject, you will live by my rules.”
And that was it. Trey stood before Flos, and realized the truth. The terrible truth. He looked up into the face of a man he’d admired, grown to respect, and understand. And he’d shaken his head.
“You’re not my king. I still have a Queen.”
Trey turned and stormed out of the throne room. He hadn’t spoken to Flos on that day, or any day since.
—-
Trey hugged himself as he stood on the balcony, watching the happy people in the streets below. Even now he remembered. And thought it was hard, and lonely, being at odds with Flos and his sister, he still knew he was right.
But it was so hard. Each day, Trey rose and woke up in a small room, apart from Teres. He ate alone, wandered the city alone, and slept alone. No one wanted to talk to him. He didn’t train with Mars, and she had given up on trying to make him do it. Orthenon refused to speak with him so long as Trey didn’t apologize to the King—
He was trying to make Trey give in. Trey could tell. It was like a pulling, a wanting in his chest that made him feel like rushing back to Flos and begging for forgiveness. It was what Trey imagined an addiction felt like; something that couldn’t be fought and tugged at your insides forever. He wondered if this was what Venith had felt like.
But Trey refused to give in. So he stood on the balcony, watching the procession meet groups of cheering people until someone spoke behind him.
“Trey.”
The young man jumped. He turned and saw Gazi standing behind him. The half-Gazer smiled a tiny bit. She nodded at him.
“I have been looking for you. My King wishes you to join him in his throne room to welcome his vassals.”
Trey stared at Gazi. He hadn’t seen her of late; she’d been riding about, keeping track of the neighboring countries in case one decided to attack again. So far everything had been quiet. Everyone was afraid of Flos. But of course he would send her to hunt Trey down. He hesitated, and then shook his head.
“The King can go bugger himself.”
Trey flinched as he said it. He waited to be hit, but Gazi said nothing. Instead, he heard her sigh.
She sat next to him on the balcony. Literally on the edge of the balcony, balancing over the three story drop as if her back were against a brick wall.
“I have been away from the city. But your sister and Mars told me of your quarrel with the King.”
She was looking at him with all four eyes. That was uncanny. Trey turned his head, feeling her gaze staring at him. Staring through him.
“It’s not right. Owning slaves. It’s not right, but everyone here does it. They’re all wrong.”
“My King would say the same of locking people up for years. Isn’t that what you do in your world?”
Trey felt something hot and angry bubbling in his chest. Teres had told Flos’ argument to Gazi? He was furious because he didn’t have a good answer to that. He wasn’t a genius! He hadn’t studied the difference between prison and slavery. And it wasn’t about that!
“That’s because they’re prisoners. They’re meant to be punished. Okay, maybe it’s bad too, but slavery is different. It means you don’t have free will. That—that some people are worth more than others. It’s wrong. It’s inhumane.”
“An odd word. Especially to someone who isn’t Human.”
Trey flushed.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I understand.”
Gazi held up a hand, still smiling. It was that fake smile she was wearing, the one that hid her real emotions. She paused, staring down at Trey as the wind blew across her armor and the young man shivered again.
“You know, some nations agree with your thinking. In Izril there are no slaves. The Drakes do not tolerate them, and neither do Gnolls. The Humans in the north rarely owned slaves, but [Ladies] such as Magnolia Reinhart put an end to it during her generation. Yet in Terandria, Baleros, and Rhir slaves are legal.”
Trey shook his head. He felt empty inside. Empty and alone.
“So? It doesn’t matter if everyone thinks that way.”
Gazi nodded, as if he’d made a good point. She went on, one eye turning to follow the parade below.
“Not all slaves are treated the same way, of course. In many nations slaves have no rights. But in Chandrar, and in my lord Flos’ kingdom, slaves cannot be mistreated. In fact, my King generally frees any slaves he takes an interest in. And in Rhir and Baleros, a slave can be freed if they fight in battle and prove themselves.”
More arguments. Trey closed his eyes. He searched for the fiery conviction in his heart and just felt tired. But it had to be said.
“Just because you’re a slave for a while—it’s still wrong. If you own someone, you’re not equal to them. Just because there’s a law, it doesn’t mean it’ll ever be right for someone who’s a slave. If you’re owned, someone could do…anything to you. And you can’t stop it.”
Gazi paused. She lost her smile, and looked impassively at Trey.
“I understand your thinking. So does my lord, even if he does not agree. He is very upset that you will not speak with him. He wishes you to rejoin his side.”
“No.”
“And that is your decision?”
Trey opened his eyes and looked at Gazi defiantly, although he was afraid of her too.
“Yes. And you can tell that to Flos. Even if you—you drag me to him, I won’t obey him! I won’t pretend everything’s alright!”
“He did tell me to force you to come to him, although he asked me to persuade you first.”
Trey turned to run, but Gazi’s hand shot out. He yelped as she caught his arm. It was impossible to pull away from her; slim though she was and still sitting, she had a grip like iron. Gazi laughed softly as T
rey gave up, and then to his surprise, let go. He stumbled back from her.
“What are—”
“He asked. But I am free to disobey. And I will on this matter, and this alone.”
Gazi remained seated on the balcony’s railing. Trey eyed her. He warily took a few steps back towards the doors, ready to flee, but she didn’t move. And probably everyone was on the lookout for him. He hesitated, and then slowly walked back over to Gazi. He stared at her, and all four of her eyes met his.
“Do you believe in slavery?”
She didn’t smile. For once, Gazi didn’t smile. She turned her head, and the corners of her mouth turned down ever so slightly.
“I believe in it. But I do not like it. I am alone in that opinion. I think my King has forgotten that. And so did I, until I heard what you shouted.”
Something. Trey felt something tug at his memory. Back then when Gazi had told them who the Traders of Roshal were, he’d seen her face. She hadn’t smiled then.
“You don’t like slaves either? Why?”
Gazi smiled. But it was a rueful smile. It was awkward, unpracticed, as if she seldom made that kind of face. And she looked down at the ground as she replied.
“I was a slave, once. Until my King freed me.”
For some reason, part of Trey had expected that reply. It was still a surprise, but after a moment it made Gazi’s character, her loyalty, everything, more understandable to Trey.
“Oh.”
He thought for a second.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked surprised. All four eyes slowly looked Trey up and down, focusing on him. Gazi nodded.
“Yes. You are, aren’t you? That is surprising too. Few people are sorry to hear I was a slave.”
Trey hesitated. He wanted to ask.
“Were you—I mean, why did—”
“I was born a slave. But my King found me when I was a child. He bought me and freed me within a year. Ever since then I have served him.”
“Oh.”
It was stupid to say the same thing again, but Trey was no linguist. He carefully rested his arms on the balcony. He stared at Gazi as the wind blew her hair slightly. The Gazer looked a bit melancholy, distant, and wistful. She was remembering. She wasn’t wearing a mask. And she was speaking the truth to him. Her truth.
“I was a slave. I know what you speak of, Trey. I have seen good masters and bad ones. I hate slavery. But my King has never been a slave. He cannot imagine it, and sees it as a fact of life. Slaves in his kingdom are treated well and they can be freed when he orders it. Why should he hate slavery? Venith, Maresar…even Mars and Orthenon have grown up knowing a slave can be well-treated and respected. But they have never been a slave.”
“Haven’t you told them what it’s like? Have you ever tried—”
Gazi nodded. She closed all four eyes.
“Many times. But is not an argument I ever won. Slavery is part of the wealth of Chandrar, part of crime and punishment. You may be executed if you wish, or you may become a slave. So it is framed as a choice, and there is a chance for freedom. But it is only that. A chance. An illusion. If I could end slavery, I would. Regardless of the cost. But my King will not hear of it.”
She clenched one gauntleted fist. Trey nodded. He had another question, so he asked it.
“Why can’t Flos just—I don’t know, fight against the slave traders? What if I—we—suggested that to him? He could free all the slaves, and take their money, and I bet the people would join his army.”
Gazi looked surprised, and then she laughed. She laughed, and it was a bright, cheerful sound that no one had heard before. Trey’s eyes widened. But then Gazi shook her head.
“The Traders of Roshal are a nation, a power unto themselves. They are similar to Wistram. You know of them? Well, Roshal is just as dangerous in its own way. They have their own army, and more money and wealth than most nations could dream of. They have countless magical artifacts hoarded away, and they would defend their possessions to the death. The Traders of Roshal are dangerous, Trey. Remember that for the future.”
Her eyes fixed on Trey and he nodded, feeling his heart skip a beat. Now Gazi wasn’t smiling, and the air around her was intense. Her eyes swiveled around, checking the balcony, the ground below, the very air. Then she spoke quietly.
“I was only a child, but I saw much with my eyes while I was a slave. The Traders have ways of compelling obedience, of defending themselves. Even Named Adventurers must tread carefully because those who break Roshal’s rules will die, no matter where they are. There are assassins and groups of trained killers that have slain monarchs who go against Roshal. And the Traders have countless thousands of years of knowledge. They know secrets of classes and leveling that my lord Flos does not.”
She fell silent for a moment, and then looked at Trey. And he knew she had not told what she spoke of next to anyone. Not even Flos.
“There are…classes which may be gained by doing the most terrible of deeds, Trey. They cannot be earned any other way. They are not real classes either. They are born of despair and filth.”
“Why are you telling me?”
She grinned at him, a true grin, like the one Mars always wore. Was there a hint of mischief in Gazi’s eyes?
“Because you and I think alike. Of my King’s trusted vassals, you and I understand one truth. And perhaps because I trust you.”
“But I’m just a kid from another world.”
“A child? Perhaps. But you are one Flos trusts.”
“No.”
Trey shook his head, feeling weary and upset again. Everyone thought that. But they were wrong! He spread his arms, helplessly.
“I know that’s what Flos says, but look, Gazi, it’s not true. I mean, he thinks I’m special, or I can be. But I’m not. Teres might be special. She can use a sword, but I can’t. I’m just an ordinary fellow. I don’t have any talents.”
Gazi studied Trey.
“Everyone has their own specialty. My King finds it in people. Surely there is something in you that can be used, or shaped. He told me you are a scholar.”
Trey laughed despairingly, laughed in Gazi’s face.
“He said that. But it’s not true! I mean, I like to study. I like to play video games. I like. But that’s not the same as being good at something, is it? In your—this world, people know what they can do, what they’re good at. But where I come from, some people are just…normal. This world isn’t like mine!”
The half-Gazer pondered while Trey pulled at his hair. She nodded.
“Perhaps that is like this world, after all. Some waste their lives in the wrong class. Others mistake a small talent for a calling. Once I thought all I would do was obey and serve without choice. You are not so different from me, I think.”
“You?”
Gazi smiled bitterly.
“Perhaps no one has spoken of it to you? Ah, but Orthenon would not. Mars does not care and my King…listen to me, Trey. In truth, I am the weakest of the Seven, among the living and the dead. I was always the lowest in level. The least able.”
“No. You? Really?”
Gazi shrugged and indicated the sword on her back and her armor.
“I am a [Scout]. Not a specialized class. See my arms and armor? My King had them forged for me, to make up for my weaknesses. But they are still there. I earned my reputation as a dangerous foe, but it is only partly deserved. I worked to make my legend worthy of my King.”
“How?”
Trey edged closer. He was very close to Gazi, and could actually smell her in the cold. She gave off a metallic scent, from her armor no doubt, but there was a spiciness in the air. No—cinnamon. She smelled a bit like that. Spicy cinnamon.
Gazi laughed again, a sound like bells, or the very spirit of them.
“How did I make my name known? It is simple. Fear. All know the name of Mars, and only a fool would not know of Orthenon. But my name is whispered among those who spy and wander alone. Gazi the
Omniscient. Of the Seven, my title was given not out of mockery, but hatred.”
Gazi grinned at him, showing off her classic smile. The scary one. But now Trey knew it was just an act. And that she did it on purpose. She looked at Trey, smiling.
“I did it for him, Trey. My King.”
“But he believes in slavery.”
She nodded.
“That is his one great flaw. But he is still my lord. I owe everything to him. So I follow him despite that. Can you understand? He broke my chains. He freed me—not just from being a slave in body, but in my mind.”
“In your mind? Like—how?”
“He told you once that there are secrets of rulers. Secrets only they know of this world and of leveling.”
How did she know that? Trey nodded. Gazi’s eyes searched their surroundings again. Then she leaned forwards and whispered to him.
“The great secret my King knows…one of them is the knowledge that a single class is best. But that is only half of it. The other half is that it is possible to remove a needless class. It is not easy, but it can be done. And only a [King] or other [Ruler] may do it.”
“Really?”
Gazi nodded.
“He took away my chains. I am no longer a [Slave]. A [King] can remove needless classes to those who pledge themselves to him. Orthenon was a [Traitor]. Takhatres a [Cursed Outcast]. My King freed us all of our pasts and gave us a future.”
Silence. Trey understood a bit more. He looked at Gazi. Once, she had been a slave. She had no future, until he’d freed her. He understood that. And yet.
“I can’t forgive him for selling people.”
Gazi nodded.
“I am not asking you to. But you cannot hide forever.”
Something in Trey agreed, but a part of him pulled back. He stared at Gazi, growing a bit angry.
“Is that why you’re talking to me? You’re still trying to persuade me to go to him and say sorry, right?”
A hand smacked Trey lightly on the head. Lightly, but it was still metal. He staggered. Gazi smiled at him. Genuinely.
“I am not forcing you to go anywhere. In fact, I think it will be good if you do not go to my King now. Perhaps later you will sit with me at dinner, but only then. You do not have to change for my King, and perhaps if you do not, he will. No one has ever been able to change my King—Flos—but himself. But perhaps you can.”
